


Divided Demons

by peblezQ



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Elton John - Fandom, Queen (Band), Rocketman (2019)
Genre: 70s Rockstar Cinematic Universe, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Boys Kissing, Comedy, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drama & Romance, Dramatic Children Is What They Are, Drug Addiction, Elton and Reid date for a hot minute in this fic, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Pining, Rare Pairings, Rock Stars, Slow Burn, What Have I Done, i was bored, idiots to lovers, it is 3 in the morning whet the hell am i even doing anymore?, these two are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peblezQ/pseuds/peblezQ
Summary: Two men are hidden behind chosen names and the longing desire of finding somebody to love.Elton John feels tethered and lost until John Reid drops by the studio in London to surprise him. Reid later introduces the musician to his business in London, the band Queen. Elton and the band’s lead singer, Freddie Mercury, immediately hit it off as friends, but as time goes on, they both wither away in loneliness by drowning themselves in drugs and partying. One wants it all to end, and the other asks why it even started at all.ORThe fanfiction where I inadvertently cause a ruckus and cross-over Rocketman and Bohemian Rhapsody to ship Elton John and Freddie Mercury together because I have nothing else better to do with my time.An Elton John/Freddie Mercury fanfiction





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, I’m Pebbs, and I’m here with yet another fanfiction. I am still working on my other Queen fanfiction, but I wanted to write this after seeing Rocketman. I love Queen and Elton John, so I thought “why not write a movie crossover fanfic?” You know, like a Marvel Cinematic Universe, except it’s not Marvel, lmao. I loved Bohemian Rhapsody, and to be completely honest, I didn’t really like Rocketman all too much. Rocketman was fairly bland and it was a bit of a disappointment. I’m a huge Elton John fan and I felt the movie had so much potential to be great. I really liked the idea of crossing the two movies over, though, so here I am.
> 
> Disclaimer: This fanfiction is the two movies crossed over together. There will be historical inaccuracies between Elton John and Queen’s career since the movies had very skewed timelines for the sake of thematic plausibility. I will be switching a few things around myself for the sake of the crossover to work in my own story, but otherwise, I will try my best to keep the story as plausible as possible. I do not own Rocketman, Bohemian Rhapsody, or literally any of the subject material in this book besides the actual fanfiction story itself. Also, I picture the movie counterparts in this fanfic... (I am also going for the appearance of John Reid from Rocketman for this fanfic, but you can picture the version from Bohemian Rhapsody if you really want...)
> 
> ~ Pebbs

The studio is relatively cold, but that doesn’t bother the duo singing their collaborative duet. Kiki and Elton sing with bright smiles, their eyes playfully entranced in each other’s as they sing and dance to the song. Elton feels contempt for a moment, feeling lively and rightly distracted from the looming loneliness that tends to shadow him every hour of every day.

Elton glances towards the large window encasing the recording booth, still smiling brightly as he makes eye contact with the sound engineer who also seems to be smiling and enjoying his job at that moment as well. Then _he_ walks in, seemingly slicing through the positive atmosphere with his _intense_ presence; Elton feels his blood run cold and his stomach do about a thousand summersaults a second as he makes direct eye contact with the man.

John _Fucking_ Reid gives him the brightest smile, easing into the atmosphere to everyone else, but to Elton, he feels like all of the dominos he struggled to set up have suddenly collapsed on him. He feels a little more boiling hot as each second goes by, and he even wipes some excess sweat that begins to form on his forehead. He clears his throat as he feels more sweat on his neck dripping down his back and he sings an awkward note, unable to look away from those cerulean blue eyes. Reid’s dashing smile sends Elton’s heart rate beating at cardiac arrest levels, and the musician smiles apologetically at Kiki, placing his hand on her shoulder and waving to the sound engineer.

“Uh, let’s take a break,” Elton says with red beginning to dust his neck and ears.

“Yeah, alright,” the engineer replies through the scratchy intercom with a toothy grin. Ray Williams smiles and gives an encouraging thumbs up from behind the engineer, but Elton barley notices as his attention is distracted between Kiki Dee and John Reid.

Kiki smiles at Elton, resting her hand on his upper arm before retreating into the sound booth. Elton leans over awkwardly as he watches Reid disappear towards the door into the studio, and he nervously adjusts his shirt and wipes his hair in place, hoping he looks somewhat presentable. Kiki and Reid brush passed each other, smiling politely at one another before she enters the sound booth and Reid closes the door behind her, turning to face Elton with a smirk playing at his lips.

“John, it’s good to - uh, so you’re here?” Elton stumbles over his words, awkwardly leaning against the music stand with a bashfully dopey grin spreading widely across his face.

“I’m back for business and I promised I would come see you, did I not?” Reid replies with a raised brow and a knowing smirk. Elton lets out a breathy chuckle as he cards his fingers through his hair before flattening it out again out of nervous habit.

“Hey, Elton -” Elton jumps at the startling sound from the intercom and looks over at Ray who is bent over the microphone, “- you wanna try again or go for a pint?” Ray asks with an innocent smile. Kiki is leaning against the board beside him and smiles knowingly at the sound engineer before quirking her brow at Elton, as if silently challenging him.

Elton’s eyesight is soon distracted by John Reid slowly backing up towards the broom closet. He opens it and leans against the back wall, smiling devilishly at Elton and beckoning him over with a deliberate wave of his hand. Elton’s smile grows as he stares lovingly at Reid, his face bursting aflame as he waves dismissively at Ray.

“Yeah, you should go for a pint…” Elton says dismissively, not breaking eye contact with John Reid. As he saunters towards the broom closet, Kiki and the sound engineer chuckle light-heartedly as Ray leans back and lifts his brows at them in confusion. Kiki drags Ray out as the engineer follows, and Elton quickly closes himself and Reid into the cupboard before urgently pressing into the man, kissing him passionately.

Elton fervently kisses Reid, his fingers dancing across the man’s back and carding up into his dark hair as he is shoved against the wall. The other deepens the kiss for a moment before they both pull away, panting and gasping for air. Elton nervously flattens his hair, smiling like a dopey teenager in love and clears his throat nervously.

“I missed you,” Reid says in a low voice, leaning his forehead against Elton’s.

“I missed you too,” Elton replies with his eyes shut. He smiles as he continues to lean his head against Reid’s lovingly.

Elton goes in for another kiss, but Reid straightens up, lifting his wrist to look at his watch. “Shit, I have a lunch meeting in thirty minutes,” Reid looks at Elton and smiles at him, pressing his palm against Elton’s cheek and smiling wider when the red-headed musician leans into his touch. “Unfortunately this reunion must be cut short, my dear.”

Elton nods in understanding and flutters his eyes shut when Reid pecks another kiss on his lips. Elton sighs and opens his eyes, watching in a daze as Reid straightens himself up and opens the closet door. Elton finally recognizes that a broom has fallen on him at some point during their heated makeout session, and he awkwardly straightens himself and the closet before exiting after Reid.

“I’ll see you around, Elton,” Reid says as he backs out of the studio, smirking at the man.

“I’d sure hope so. We do work together,” Elton says with a playful grin and a raised brow. Reid rolls his eyes with a gentle grin before leaving the studio. Elton finally breathes again, not realizing he was holding his breath. He gasps and bends over the soundboard, chuckling to himself and shaking his head, bemused.

John Reid exits the building and enters the back of the business car, trying to not look at his watch too often. The driver peels out onto the road and drives through awful traffic. John wonders why in god’s name did he even bother stopping by to see Elton in the first place. Then he remembers the man’s immediate submission to him and he smirks to himself before coughing and attempting to straighten out his appearance.

The car finally pulls into a parking spot on the street outside of a restaurant. He exits the car and meets with Paul Prenter at the entrance to the restaurant's patio, straightening his jacket out and acting suavely nonchalant. Paul checks his watch and then looks at Reid with a raised brow in question.

“Where the hell have you--”

“--I just had to stop by somewhere for business,” Reid interrupts with stoic features. He carelessly looks off towards the tables. “Where are they?”

Paul sighs, slacking his shoulders as he turns and gestures vaguely towards the table of four men with long hair; one of them wearing the flashiest white jacket Reid has ever seen. He offhandedly thinks Elton would like that jacket, but he shakes the thought out and marches forward, not waiting for Paul to follow.

“Get me a drink,” Reid orders. Paul sighs again, stopping in his tracks to steer towards the cafe as Reid walks towards the young band laughing about something unimportant. John Reid suddenly grabs a chair from the neighbouring table and drags it over, not saying anything else as he sits down and looks at them with calculating features. They all nervously adjust themselves and Reid gives a strained smile.

“So this is Queen,” Reid points at the flamboyantly dressed man, “and you must be Freddie Mercury. You’ve got a gift - you all have. So tell me, what makes Queen any different from all of the wannabe rock stars I meet.”

“I’ll tell you what it is,” Freddie says. “We’re four misfits who don’t belong together - playing to the other misfits, the outcasts, right at the back of the room who are pretty sure they don’t belong either.” Reid lets a hint of a smirk play at the corner of his lips as he nods along. “We belong to them.”

“We’re a family,” the curly haired guitarist, Brian May adds with a smile.

“But no two of us are the same,” the blonde drummer, Roger Taylor, says with his eyes hidden behind dark aviators.

A cup is placed in front of Reid, and he looks up, acknowledging the man. “Paul,” Reid says, then looks towards Queen. “Paul Prenter, meet Queen...our new signing.” The four young men try to hold in their smiles of excitement as they all exchange looks with each other. “Paul will be looking after you, day to day--”

“--It’s a pleasure--”

“--If I can get you on the radio, then maybe I can get you on television,” Reid explains, ignoring Paul’s interruptive quip.

“Top of the pops?” Roger asks, trying to hide his smile.

“Hopefully,” Reid replies.

“And then?” Freddie asks, gesticulating his hand in an almost dismissive wave, urging Reid to go on.

Reid smirks. “ _And then_ the only biggest television program in the country...no one’s even heard of ya…” Reid says as John and Roger struggle to hold back nervous laughter. “Look, I admire your enthusiasm. _If_ it goes well - _if_ it happens, I’ve got a promotion tour in Japan in mind…”

Freddie nods, looking off and pulling his lips in a thin line. He nervously rubs his fingers together and flicks his head towards John Reid. “We - we’ll want more…”

“Every band wants more,” Reid says with a lifted brow.

“Every band’s not Queen,” the quiet but resourceful bassist, John Deacon, quips in, causing everyone to proudly smirk. John Reid exhales through his nose, a soft laugh, and he smiles down at the table before lifting his eyes and brows up at the four young men.

“Alright, then,” Reid says, leaning back in his seat, watching the four men with calculating eyes. “Let’s just see how this all plays out, then, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

**_One Year Later..._ **

 

Elton flattens his hair for the umpteenth time this evening. His leg bounces underneath the table as he searches the restaurant with nervous anticipation. He waits with bated breath, feeling lost in the fogginess of his mind. He feels on edge and wishes he took some snow before coming here. This is a bad idea, he realizes, and he starts overthinking his escape route, his eyes distractedly flickering from one end of the dining hall to the next.

He jumps at the sound of the chair across from him being pulled out, and Elton blinks in confusion. He makes eye contact with the man sitting across from him, but wonders why the eyes he’s looking into are dark and not the bright blue he was expecting.

“Hi, sorry,” the man says nervously, reaching his hand out. “I’m Freddie. Freddie Mercury. John Reid told me on the telephone that he will meet up with us later.”

Elton lifts his brow, taking the man’s hand and shaking it politely. “Uh, Elton John,” he introduces with a meeker sounding voice than he intended. Elton retreats into a stiff sitting position and watches the raven-haired man look seemingly everywhere but at himself. Elton awkwardly flickers his gaze to the floor but looks up when he hears the man clear his throat. Freddie seems just as nervous as himself.

“So, uh, this is quite lovely. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?” Freddie asks, chewing his bottom lip.

Elton smiles politely, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. _Where the hell is John?_ “Uh, yes, it is,” Elton replies, feeling like he wants to throw himself off of the nearest building or bridge to cut through the tension he has caused. _Why the fuck am I like this?_

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing. I was not expecting Reid to leave us here waiting for him whilst we awkwardly talk until we both want to turn into dust,” Freddie says with a nervous chuckle. Elton’s smile grows more genuine at that, and he bows his head nervously, scratching his neck.

“I was under the impression I was just having supper with John. I had no idea he was bringing you along,” Elton admits feebly. “Not that I mind your company,” he waves defensively, ”you’re quite talented. You sing and play the piano, right?”

Freddie smiles but moves his lips to conspicuously cover his teeth. His cheeks dust with crimson as he tries to hold back his bashful grin. “Uh, yes. I quite like your music, if I’m being honest, Mr. John--”

“--Please, don’t call me that,” Elton chuckles, “Mr. John is my father,” he says with dramatic flair. At that, they both laugh, finally feeling like they have released the tension. “You can just call me Elton,” he adds after they have calmed themselves down.

“Alright, Elton,” Freddie says, as if testing the sound of the man’s name on his tongue. Elton feels something inside of him jolt to life, but he attempts to keep calm and nonchalantly sip from his wine glass. “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides work on music?” Freddie asks conversationally, and Elton shrugs.

“Um, I,” he casts his gaze to the floor, “I like to shop.”

“Oh? What do you like to buy?” Freddie asks, his eyes lighting up brightly. Elton shrugs, smiling nervously before leaning on his palm, covering his mouth as he considers his thoughts.

“I don’t know, anything that catches my attention, I suppose?” Elton says bashfully. _This man must think I’m such a bloody loser._

“That’s wonderful, darling!” Freddie exclaims with a wide grin. Elton catches sight of Freddie’s large teeth before he covers them up with his lips again. “I would love to shop, but I’m afraid me and my bandmates are still fresh and upcoming, not very wealthy or anything. The last record company we had a contract with before EMI were absolute scum and, well, my bandmates and I are getting by with this last album.”

“Your last record, A Night At The Opera, right?” Elton inquires with a tilted head.

Freddies eyes widen in horror and he smiles apprehensively, scratching his neck. “Oh, you, uh...you know of our last album?”

“Yes?” Elton says, feeling slightly confused since they share the same manager. “It’s quite good. I really enjoyed Seaside Rendezvous. Oh, and Bohemian Rhapsody - what a marvellous song,” Elton boasts gleefully and Freddie’s blush darkens.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Freddie says, trying to act cool and collected.

“You and all of your bandmates contribute to the songwriting, correct?” Elton asks, leaning on his hands with an easy grin.

“Uh, yes. Seaside Rendezvous and Bohemian Rhapsody are actually two songs I wrote for the album…” Freddie says, his face still flushed and hot. He smiles gratefully at the waiter as he sits up and orders a glass of champagne. Elton’s eyes widen for a moment in response to Freddie’s statement; he sits back and tries to act natural as the waiter leaves.

“Well, you’re very good with words--” Elton blushes, looking off to the side, “--I’m not very good with words, myself.”

Freddie smiles endearingly at Elton. “Well, you’re good with writing music pieces, and that still takes quite a bit of skill and talent.”

Elton looks up at Freddie, smiling and slowly sitting up. This man seems shy but also lively and full of kindness. Elton almost feels unworthy to be in Freddie’s presence. Freddie’s smile reassures him and gives him a warm and fuzzy feeling that he hasn’t felt in a while. Elton shoves it deep down and returns Freddie’s smile, trying to act normal.

The champagne is placed in front of Freddie, and he lifts it up. “Well, um, a toast to us,” Freddie says with a smile. “To a new friendship.”

Elton mirrors Freddie's grin and raises his wine glass. “To a new friendship,” Elton responds as they clink the cups together before they each take a sip, not breaking eye contact. Elton watches Freddie as the man places his cup down and straightens out his jacket. Elton almost sighs in content, but quickly clears his throat and looks away, placing his own cup down and trying to not draw attention to himself. His gaze catches John’s at the entrance, and Elton’s easy grin returns. His stomach flips and his heart pounds at the sight of John, but then he feels his insides turn into mush as he watches Freddie wave the man over.

Elton feels suddenly conflicted and doesn’t understand why. He picks up his wine glass and guzzles the rest of its contents down, enjoying the warm buzz the alcohol gives him. He relishes in numbness and is quick to order another wine as John and Freddie shake hands before they both take their seats.

“Sorry I’m late,” John says, “so, what did I miss?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think of it? Should I continue it further? Sorry, it is a bit short. If I were to continue, I would try to go for longer chapters. (I thought I would be cheeky and create this power ship and cause a ruckus in the fanbase.)
> 
> The historical inaccuracies hurt my soul and probably hurt yours as well. A gentle reminder: this is the movie universe, not real life. Do not take any of this as fact.
> 
> Thank you in advance for any comments, kudos, bookmarks and shares!
> 
> ~ Pebbs


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elton and Reid just had a nasty break up when Elton finally grew tired of his constant cheating. Freddie comes over to comfort his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Here's another chapter (that I totally didn't _just_ write. I also _totally_ edited this more than once...)
> 
> I decided to explore my writing skills a bit and actually challenge myself with something that doesn't centre around dialogue, for once. I hope you all like it! Thank you so much to the large and positive response this fic has received!
> 
>    
>  _~ Pebbs_

> _**London, November 1979** _
> 
> _**22:48 PM** _

 

Elton is going to die, that he knew for _certain_. He is feeling particularly numb today and isn’t quite sure if his heart is beating anymore. Elton leans over the counter and grabs a bottle of whiskey, hoping it adds to the _unreachable comfort_  of nothingness. He sways in his spot, the bottle unsteady in his grip as he considers the glass, wondering why it keeps moving away from him. Elton finally starts pouring and giggles in victory when he only spills a little bit of the vodka onto the counter... _or wait, was it whiskey?_ He can't bother to recall what he just poured into his cup; he drinks it anyway.

Before Elton can pour himself another shot, he hears the front door to his _large and extravagant_ house open. ‘ _Feels more like everlasting and empty,’_ Elton muses to himself in bitter silence. He sighs poignantly and drops the bottle with a loud **_BANG_ ** before lifting his newly filled cup. Elton raises the glass but frowns when he realizes that he has forgotten to actually fill the damn glass with anything.

“Elton, darling? Where are you, my dear?” Freddie’s usual sing-song voice sounds gruff and torn as he calls from outside of Elton’s bar; he sounds hoarse like he screamed _bloody murder_ for hours. Freddie opens the door and his eyes scan the room pensively before stopping on the drunk musician struggling to pick up the bottle of alcohol again.

Elton makes accidental eye contact with Freddie as the man enters the room, his fingers sliding against the wooden door as he walks by. Elton realizes that he is, in fact, still alive since his heart seemingly begins protruding heavily like a cartoon.

“Oh, dear,” Freddie mumbles with a worrisome expression, his eyes glossing with unshed tears. “Elton, he’s a dick and doesn’t deserve you.”

“Mhm --” Elton hums with a shrug, smiling and placing the bottle down when he finally fills his cup _for real_ this time, “-- yer point?”

Freddie frowns at Elton, folding his arms over his chest and lifting an accusing brow at his friend. “Reid doesn’t deserve your grieving. I think it’s time you and I had some _actual_ fun instead of you brooding in your bar all alone.”

Elton considers Freddie’s proposal but then shrugs again before guzzling his shot of Tequila.. _.no, that’s not right. What the hell was he drinking again?_

“Okay, but counter-argument,” Elton slurs, his posture wobbling as if he is on a boat, “maybe I can just stay ‘ere while yew go an’ have fun _wifout_ me…”

Freddie’s displeased expression exaggerates. “Are you --” Elton pushes his tinted glasses up his nose as it slides down, “-- are you shitfaced, Elton?” Elton just giggles. “Unbelievable,” Freddie drawls as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Waddya expect, Fred?” Elton holds out his arms widely, gesticulating towards himself in a vague manner. “I’m a fucking mess pretty much all the damn time, so you might as well bugger off and go sniffing around for a _better_ mate…” Elton staggers backwards as he continues to hold his arms out, briefly losing his balance.

Freddie exhales deeply through his nose, completely fed up and frustrated. What happens next, though, is quite the opposite response Elton thought he would have. Freddie marches forward and intertwines their hands before dragging the intoxicated man out of the room. Elton drops his shot glass, twitching at the high frequency from it shattering on the floor. The sound echoes, his head a swarm of buzzing bees inside of a dark and cold cave.

Elton’s pulse squeezes his head and he rubs at his right temple, slightly knocking his glasses in a skewed position. He carelessly neglects his tilted glasses as he stares at their interlocked hands with crimson beginning to flush his neck, ears, and cheeks. His hammering heartbeat grows more rapid, and the buzzing in his head becomes unbearable as he longs for Freddie to hold him forever in drunken silence. Elton’s heavy head sways as a lump travels through his throat and into his gut; he immediately leaps towards a large _indistinguishable_ plant, heaving his supper into the soil.

He chokes the last of the bile out, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and distantly feeling a hand rub soothing circles onto his back. Elton falls backwards into a slouched sitting position as he sluggishly leans against the wall, turning to face Freddie who is now kneeling at his eye level.

“You okay, darling?” Freddie asks with a gentle smile gracing those _beautiful--_ Elton shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the intrusive thoughts. Freddie sighs and sits beside him, rubbing his hand up and down Elton’s arm. “Okay, so maybe you’re in no real condition to move much, but I don’t mind staying here with you for a while,” Freddie suggests with the smallest hint of a smile.

“No, no, I couldn't make you --”

“-- _You_ aren't making me do shit, Elton --” Freddie frowns, “-- I’m _choosing_ to stay.”

Elton opens his mouth to protest, but Freddie shushes him. He leans his head onto Elton’s shoulder and hums an incoherent melody, one that might be recognizable to a sober man. Elton might be too drunk to think straight-- _quite literally_ now that he begins to panic at the realization that _Freddie is resting his head on his shoulder!_

Elton tries to stay calm as his heartbeat picks up speed again-- _’Fuck, I hope he can’t feel it beating!’--_ and he tries to distract himself by tracing patterns into the cold tiled flooring beneath him. Freddie joins him with tracing patterns, still humming the unrecognizable tune. Elton’s heart might _actually_ leap out of his chest and splat onto the floor in a gruesome display for the dark-eyed singer beside him. _‘Breathe, dammit! You’re_ **_not_ ** _breathing!’_

Elton’s eyelids flutter and his head sways until finally _thunking_ against the wall. He realizes that for once, he enjoys _feeling_ something, and wants his heart to endlessly beat on for the man resting against him. Elton turns his head ever so slightly-- _were they this close before?_ Freddie’s nose is pressing against Elton’s collar and his eyelids are heavy-lidded as he traces his fingered patterns right onto Elton’s hand. Freddie rests his hand on top of Elton’s, leaving it there to burn the poor man like he has touched a hot pan. Elton’s blood pumps harder, and he feels more lightheaded and shameful as he stares at Freddie's lips.

Elton snaps his eyes away when Freddie sits up to look at him, and he tries-- _and fails--_ to look as nonchalant as possible. Elton isn’t sure if his face had paled or riped up like a fresh tomato, but his racing thoughts are soon interrupted when Freddie places a hand on his stubbled cheek.

“You’re thinking too hard, again,” Freddie says with the smallest grin. “What are you fussing about now, darling?”

Elton just stares wordlessly at Freddie, resisting the urge to look at his lips. His eyes trace the man’s features, etching each detail into his brain for safe-keeping and-- _dammit, he’s locked on those pink lips, again!_ Freddie licks them self consciously and Elton averts his gaze towards Freddie’s eyes again, hoping-- _and praying--_ for some miracle that Freddie didn’t notice.

“I, um,” Elton swallows, willing the lump in his throat to go away as he continues to stare at Freddie like an _absolute moron_ . “I just don’t want to be alone anymore…” Elton admits in a low, feeble voice; barley spoken above a whisper. Freddie’s eyes gaze down at _his_ lips and Elton suddenly feels faint as he wonders if he began hallucinating. He doesn’t recall taking any drugs with that bottle of scotch-- _no, that’s_ **_still_ ** _not right; what the hell did he drink again? His brain is too frazzled to think about an already_ **_blurry_ ** _memory._

“I know what you mean,” Freddie replies, his eyes flickering towards the hallway with a calculating look in his dark eyes. “I…” Freddie stops speaking, considering what he is about to admit before sighing and looking Elton in the eyes again. “I feel lonely sometimes, too. I understand your suffering.” Freddie laughs humorlessly as he stares at his feet. “I’m a huge hypocrite, trying to seem like a responsible friend when I _also_ drink myself unconscious, too.”

“Well, I didn’t get t _hat_ far tonight,” Elton replies lightly. “Not that I’d want to anymore...now that _you’re_ here…” Elton adds in a whisper, his eyes _misbehaving_ and locking on Freddie’s mouth again. Freddie’s eyes roam Elton’s face until they linger on Elton’s lips, his expression weightless and puzzled. Elton feels himself being pulled towards Freddie like a helpless planet in the path of a black hole.

Elton twists their resting hands into a tight, interlocked grip, and he lifts his free hand to press lightly against Freddie’s cheek. He feels Freddie’s sweat and a hint of a stubble starting to penetrate through the skin beneath his fingertips. Elton tilts his head, his eyes lidded as he parts his lips and feels the puff of Freddie’s anxious breath. Elton’s heart hammers like a high-tempo kick drum and he takes the leap, crashing his lips against Freddie’s fervently.

The man responds after a beat of slight hesitation, separating their grasped hands to tangle both of his hands in the nape of Elton’s neck. Elton worries about his breath and about Freddie, hoping he can just stay in this moment of bliss forever. He pushes himself forward, tilting his head more to deepen the kiss. Elton realizes in the back of his mind that this kiss is very sloppy on his end, but Freddie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, said singer continues to reciprocate, parting his lips and licking Elton’s bottom lip; _a silent question._ Elton responds, opening his mouth and inviting Freddie to explore. Elton’s tongue tangles with Freddie’s and he feels himself begin to bloat like a hot air balloon.

And then as suddenly as it began, it ended. Elton’s mouth feels cold and he opens his eyes expectantly. His stomach drops at the sight of Freddie’s expression of horror, wondering solemnly to himself if he _fucked this relationship up like every other one he’s had._

“I --” Elton leans back, gulping and carding his fingers through his hair nervously, “-- I-I’m sorry.”

Freddie lightly shakes his head, the movement would be unnoticeable if Elton wasn’t watching the man with owl-like eyes. Freddie clears his throat. “Nuh-no need to --” Freddie coughs into his fist, “-- to apologize, darling. That was _my own_ fault. I’m...I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Elton feels like he could just cry, wondering why Freddie would ever believe that he caused this chaos when it was _clearly_ Elton’s fault. Elton utters out the only thing he can think to say to save his sinking friendship. “We can just forget this ever happened.”

Freddie stares at Elton for a long time before nodding. “Yes, okay. Let’s, um, let’s get you some water and aspirin, then take you to your bed so you can sleep off that nasty hangover you’ll definitely have tomorrow.”

Elton nods, grateful Freddie has changed the subject, but also internally wanting to throw himself into a woodchipper. Freddie stands up, stumbling as he does so, and dusting himself off before leaning over to help Elton. He hesitantly takes his _**friend** ’s_ hands and allows Freddie to wrap his arms around his shoulders to half-carry him to the stairwell.

Neither of them speak another word the rest of the night except for Elton’s feeble, “thank you,” as Freddie leaves his room. Elton’s back faces the man as he exits, and he trembles until his eyes become too heavy to stay open any longer. Elton prays for the comfort of nothingness again as a single, shameful tear rolls down his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided one more part after this is all that is necessary since this fanfic doesn't follow a very straightforward plot like a normal story. It's really just about their friendship over the years and how they _fell in love_ in this movie crossover AU. 
> 
> This was written in 1 hour, edited once, and not beta-read. Sorry if there are any errors. Feel free to let me know if you spot any :D
> 
> Thanks! See you again soon!
> 
>    
>  _~ Pebbs_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, howdy, hey! this is the last part of this story! I hope you guys like it! Thank you so much, everyone, for your support. It really means a lot! (Sorry it is very late. Your patience is a respected virtue!)
> 
> ~ Pebbs

Elton paces the room anxiously, staring at the telephone with a palpitating heartbeat. He  _ knows _ that he  _ fucked up _ , but he also wishes that Freddie will just forget everything and talk to him again. Elton reaches out to grab the telephone, his hands trembling as he picks up the receiver and presses the cold plastic against his ear. He breathes heavily as his other finger stumbles to ring up every number that he has memorized like the tune of a distant melody.

Elton hesitates at the last number, but pulls it through, ringing in the final number, and watching it spin back to the default setting before the dial-tone begins humming through the speaker. Elton twirls the cord around his left index finger as he sits down and bounces his leg, resisting the urge to slam the reviver back on top of the telephone to end the call.

Before he can act on it, however, he ends up hearing it crackle and gulps when he hears Freddie’s low, husky voice mumbling a soft, “hello?”

Elton breathes for at least thirty seconds, frozen and unable to form any coherent words. His lips babble but his chest lets out no sound. Freddie sighs and says, “hello?” again, but more annoyed this time. His patience is clearly running thin, and Elton realizes it is now or never.

“Freddie?” Elton says in a low voice that has an embarrassing crack to it. Freddie sighs again but sounds more relieved than annoyed now.

“Elton? Darling, it’s three-thirty in the morning,” Freddie states tiredly. There is obvious concern laced in his fatigued tone, and Elton nods but then rubs the spot between his eyebrows when he remembers he is using the telephone.

“Right, yes, I - uh,” Elton inwardly kicks himself for sounding so pathetic.

“Are you…” there’s a pause, “...are you alright, dear? Do you need me to come over?” Freddie asks in a gentle tone.

“ _ No _ , that’s,” Elton swallows the quickly forming saliva in his mouth, “no,  _ I’m _ ...I’m fine. No need to travel at such a late hour. I just,  _ um _ ,” Elton sighs again, rubbing his whole forehead now and running his hand to the back of his neck to wipe away the sweat building up there. “I just wanted to talk to you, is all…”

There’s another pause that feels way too dreadfully long for Elton, but in reality, must only be seven seconds.

“What about, dear?” Freddie asks, sounding somewhat more alert now, and yet, still gentle.

“I just wuh-wanted to ah puh-puh--” Elton clears his throat and pinches his eyes with his index finger and thumb to wipe away pesky tears, “--I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was...incredibly intoxicated, and you didn’t -- you shouldn't have had to deal with... _ that _ …”

“Oh,” Freddie says, sounding upset. “No,  _ no _ \- Elton, darling, it’s quite alright. No apologies necessary,” Freddie says hurriedly.

“It  _ is  _ necessary. I just --” Elton leans back in his seat, rubbing his forehead as he feels a  _ life-threatening _ headache sluggishly begin to form. He’s  _ definitely _ going to  _ die _ of a brain aneurysm whilst apologizing to Freddie, and all will be well again. “I feel ashamed for putting you in that position. I also shouldn’t have just…” Elton wonders why a plane hasn’t crashed into his bedroom yet as he stumbles over his words. “Kissing you so suddenly was rude and uncalled for, and I’m sorry,” Elton sighs, dropping the receiver on his lap and rubbing his temples stressfully.

Elton vaguely hears a sound coming from the speaker of the telephone receiver, but he ignores it as he stands up slowly, letting the receiver fall on the floor with a loud thud. He hears the muffled sounds stop before he hears frantic sounding buzzing coming from the telephone. Elton leans against the wall, staring down at the telephone receiver, his eyes clouded with tears, and his cheeks stinging from salty tears streaming down his face like a dreadful rainfall. It won’t  _ stop _ , no matter how much he urges it all to just  **_stop_ ** .

Elton slides down the wall, his lips quivering for a moment, and he takes quick, uneven breaths. He stares at the phone receiver, the buzzing sound of Freddie’s muffled voice infecting his brain with a rare wasp-nest-disease that he hopes will just implode his brain already so it can all just  **_stop_ ** .

Elton groans after a short while before leaning over and lifting the heavy receiver, resting it against his ear to listen to Freddie’s frantic voice.

“--ton? Elton, darling, answer me please for fuck’s sake before I call the bloody police! El--”

“--’sallright, Freddie. ’M here,” Elton mumbles, interrupting Freddie’s frantic pleas.

“You motherfuck-- you scared me half to-- dammit, Elton - I’m coming over!” Freddie says quickly, stumbling over his words. He sounds out of breath, and Elton sighs, wondering why he ruined Freddie’s night with his burden of an existence-- 

“--stop overthinking things. I can tell you’re thinking too hard right now. Stay right where you are!” Freddie interrupts Elton’s thoughts with raging concern laced in his tone. “That means **_don’t_** _fucking move_ , you nitwit!” Freddie adds in a harsh tone. “I’m coming over! Bloody he--” Freddie’s line gets cut short, leaving Elton alone with his brooding thoughts and the beeping dial tone of a disconnected phone call.

Elton obliges to Freddie's request, sitting slumped against the wall, utterly unmoving with the phone receiver hanging loosely from his grip against his cheek. He slowly lowers his arm, letting the receiver fall onto the floor with two scattered thumps as each weighted end of the receiver impacts with the hardwood floor. Elton sits still, breathing slowly and staring at the opposing wall, blurred with his violent rush of tears that will _not_ ** _stop_** _falling_.

Elton feels himself sinking through the floor, falling farther and farther down into an empty abyss, and watching himself sit in his bedroom with a cold and vacant expression. His tears roll down his cheeks like a leaking faucet, and his lips are left slightly parted to breathe. He spins around in his void for centuries, wondering when it will just  **_end_ ** already.

Then he is tugged back to his body when two hands firmly grasp his shoulders, and he blinks, looking directly into familiar dark brown eyes. Freddie shakes him one more time, and Elton’s deadweight arms finally lift. He engulfs Freddie in the tightest embrace, not wanting to let himself  _ fall _ again. Freddie keeps him on the ground, anchoring him and returning the embrace. Freddie tucks his head in the nook between Elton’s jaw and right shoulder.

They stay like this for a while, and Elton relishes every moment of it. He  _ doesn’t _ want it to  _ stop _  and curses anything that might  _ end it all _ for him now when he has  _ finally _ been anchored again.

Freddie pulls his head back to look into Elton’s eyes. “Darling, are you alright?” Freddie asks between sniffles. Has he been crying this whole time? His eyes are drowned in tears, and his cheeks are red and puffy.

Elton breathes in his scent and sighs with content. His tears no longer  _ fall _ and he smiles, lifting his hand to hold Freddie’s cheek. “Yes,” Elton says truthfully. “I’m alright, now.”

Freddie searches Elton’s eyes for a moment before melting into his touch and smiling. His teeth on full display for Elton, and he stares at Freddie’s mouth, longing to kiss those lips again. He flickers his gaze into Freddie’s eyes again and moves his hand behind Freddie’s head to pull him into another embrace instead. Freddie smells of cinnamon, and he is reminded of another time; a simpler time, when all was well and he wasn't trapped in his  _ endless freefall _ for the dark-haired singer.

 

* * *

 

Elton is startled from swirling his drink, staring at the hand resting on his shoulder. He follows the arm up to his dear friend  _ Bernie _ ’s smiling face, and cannot help but return the gesture, giving him a warm grin of his own. Bernie lowers his hand as they watch four men enter the ballroom, and Elton silently longs for that heavy weight of Bernie’s hand again as he makes direct eye contact with familiar brown eyes.

It’s Freddie Mercury, entering with his head held high, and looking more confident with his band beside him; all of them laughing at something the blonde one -  _ Roger, if he is not mistaken _ \- said. Elton absently rubs at his ear, wondering why everything sounds so muffled.

Freddie’s gaze drags across the room before stopping dead onto Elton’s gaze, and he smiles brightly at him. Elton smiles nervously, dragging his hand rubbing his ear down to rub the sweat from his neck before giving a gentle wave to the man across the room. Freddie turns to his bandmates and waves at them to follow, and before Elton realizes what is happening, all four men look directly at him and smile, walking over with determination.

Bernie adjusts his weight before leaning forward to shake the blonde's _\--It was_ _Roger...Taylor, right?_ \-- Bernie shakes _Roger’s_ hand, and Elton inwardly panics when he automatically lifts his hand to shake Freddie’s.

“My, it’s been a while,” Freddie says with a smirk. “I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Queen, darling.”

Elton smiles, silently dreading the feeling of letting Freddie’s hand go before turning his attention to the three other men beside the singer. “Yes, I don’t believe I have,” Elton replies before shaking the dark poodle-haired man. _ \--Brian May. I think…?-- _

“Brian May, lead guitar,” the dark poodle-haired man says, confirming Elton’s silent ramblings.

Elton’s smile grows wider. “Elton John.”

He finds himself shaking the hand of-- “Roger Taylor. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the blonde says, smirking wickedly. He has a  _ pretty _ , feminine look to him, but Elton finds himself blushing anyways. “I’m the drummer,” Roger adds before letting his hand go.

“John Deacon. Bassist,” the chestnut-haired man says with a smile. Elton nods, smiling before releasing his hand and moving out of the way so Bernie can introduce himself.

“I’m just the one who writes the lyrics.  _ He’s _ \--” he gestures towards Elton, _ “-- _ the  _ true _ musical genius,” Bernie says bashfully, to which Elton nudges him, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s more of a genius than I am,” Elton adds with a pointed look towards Bernie. The band smiles endearingly at their exchange before they all fall into an easy conversation with each other.

Elton feels himself ease up as the night plays on, finding himself nearly attached to Freddie’s hip all night long. The man doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, he practically drags Elton around, grabbing his wrist to go towards the dancefloor at one point. Elton tries to remember why he was here, but his train of thought fades as he stares into Freddie’s eyes, feeling himself lift up in spirits. This man is full of enough life for the whole room, and Elton craves more.

He stumbles suddenly and Freddie catches him, laughing like a maniac. Elton laughs with him, his head buried in Freddie’s shoulder as his own shoulders bounce with his hiccuped laughter. Elton breathes in deeply through his nose to calm down and smells a strong scent of cinnamon seeping off of the dark-eyed singer.

Before he can truly enjoy the scent, he pulls back, smiling at Freddie, and turning his attention to Roger Taylor who approaches them with more alcohol. He struggles with holding three glasses, but Elton helps him immediately by grabbing one out of his hand. Roger gives him a thankful grin.

 

* * *

 

Elton pulls out of the embrace, leaning on the back of his head against the wall as he grows a dopey grin at recalling a memory, and Freddie tilts his head in confusion. Elton sighs and looks into Freddie’s eyes again, letting his arms rest on his lap.

“Elton,” Freddie begins, his voice slow and calculated, as if he is deciphering his thoughts and choosing his words carefully.

“Hmm?” Elton hums, lifting an eyebrow at Freddie in question.

“You didn't have to call me to apologize for something I wasn’t even angry about. You were already forgiven before I even showed up to your house that night,” Freddie says with a small smile.

Elton returns the gentle grin. “Thank you for indulging me, dear.” Elton silently prays that Freddie didn't hear the pet name slip up.

Freddie’s grin grows wider and he chuckles. “Of course.” Elton sighs in relief, thanking whatever powerful force allowed Freddie to ignore his rolling tongue, exposing his true thoughts. Then, abruptly switching the scene, Freddie leans in, pressing his lips against Elton’s. Elton’s eyes widen and he shudders in consternation; Elton isn't sure if it is amazement or distress, but his thudding heartbeat and sweaty-coated skin are alerting his fight-or-flight response. Elton just stays frozen, however, and is grateful he didn’t react by fleeing or punching. Freddie pulls away immediately, and Elton blinks dumbfoundedly.

“Sorry!” Freddie cries out. Elton blinks. This is not what he wanted. He must fix it. “Sorry, I--” Elton shuts him up by pressing his lips on Freddie’s for a brief moment before pulling away again, his eyelids hooded and his smile lazy and enamoured.

“Please don’t apologize. That’s all I’ve ever wanted and I felt ashamed that you might have been offended when I kissed you the other night,” Elton says in a low voice, barely above a whisper.

Freddie blinks, then leans back, resting his hands on his kneeling thighs. “Quite the contrary, dear. You worried me tonight and I thought  **_I_ ** was the one who messed things up the other night. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you, darling,” Freddie admits with a  bashful look.

Elton smiles so widely that his cheeks start to hurt, and he holds Freddie’s face, feeling his heart beat faster in the best way possible. He leans in and Freddie reciprocates immediately. They crash their lips together and move into a sloppy, fervent kiss that releases years of bottled up passion. Elton  _ finally  _ feels secure under his skin and he  **_never_ ** wants it to  **_stop_ ** . He  _ needs to  _ **_stay_ ** and  **_last_ ** with Freddie, the man who shares his lifeline with others in a desperate attempt to feel purpose and love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it! Not much of a "plot-driven" type of story as it is more of a "character study" type of story. I really wanted to focus more on internal monologues and really playing with the idea of an unreliable narrator by flip-flopping between Elton's _emotional_ narration and the _literal_ narration. It was really fun and angsty, but has a hopeful end to it :) Thank you, guys!
> 
>  _P.S. WHY ARE THERE ONLY TWO FANFICTIONS WITH THIS PAIRING, AND ONE OF THEM IS MINE!? Sorry, didn't mean to yell_ 😅
> 
> ~ Pebbs


End file.
